


My Assassin

by Veeebles



Category: The Crown (TV)
Genre: Based on Episode "Assassins", ELizabeth is Queen of Queens, Extension of her speach to him before the dinner, F/M, Is it treason to write this???, Jealous Phillip, No smut because treason, Phillip loves her very much, Soz Queenie, estabished relationship, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veeebles/pseuds/Veeebles
Summary: “I have nothing to hide from you. Nothing. Porchey is a friend. And yes, there are those who would have preferred me to marry him. Indeed, marriage with him might have been easier. Might have even worked better than ours.”His hands gripped the wooden frame tighter, blood boiling at the mere prospect of it. He hated to think of her with anyone else. Hated the thought of his heart belonging to another.“But to everyone’s regret and frustration the only person I have ever loved is you.”





	My Assassin

He gripped the solid wood of the bedframe beneath his thighs, his fingers digging in until it hurt. There had always been some strange satisfaction to be had in watching his wife undress. He enjoyed seeing the pearls and jewels and sparkling diamonds strip away, all the chiffon and silk pooling on the floor around her ankles, soft white cotton and linen following suit until she stood bare before him. It had been a long time since he had seen the naked skin of his wife.

Now, she would undress to her shimmy, then disappear behind her partition, reappearing after a few heart beats in her linen, running down to brush the floor and buttoned up to her chin. He had long since forgot the longing that she sparked in him.

In the beginning, he would dismiss her handmaid just after her dress and jewels had been removed. Then, he would slowly make his way toward her, the same every night; her back to him, waiting obediently for his touch.

He would stand behind her, enjoying their difference of height, smile to himself as he watched gooseflesh rise on the skin of her shoulder, running down her arms as he blew softly, watching in fascination as she shivered in his presence.

His fingers would find the silken strings of her chemise and he would pull them slowly down, pushing the fabric lose from her until it too fell to the floor. Her undergarments came next, methodically and as gently as he could

That seemed like so long ago.

Now, he stood studying his shoes, his heart in turmoil in his chest, gut clenched.

“Can you leave us now, please?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

As soon as the door closed, she turned to him.

His wife. His queen.

 “I have nothing to hide from you. Nothing. Porchey is a friend. And yes, there are those who would have preferred me to marry him. Indeed, marriage with him might have been easier. Might have even worked better than ours.”

His hands gripped the wooden frame tighter, blood boiling at the mere prospect of it. He hated to think of her with anyone else. Hated the thought of his heart belonging to another.

“But to everyone’s regret and frustration the only person I have ever loved is you.”

He cursed himself for the thrill that gave him, deep in his chest the proud lion that lived there purred at her words. Such an honest, unapologetic admission from her, her feelings laid bare and confident to him, standing there announcing her love for him like the Queen she was. That he should be the one to hold her heart, the only one ever, was humbling. Her love was a rare thing which was why his blood had boiled so quickly and such a red fever had clouded his vision at the mere mention of Porchy.

“And can you honestly look me in the eye and say the same?”

He raised his head to her then. She stood there in all her glory; chin high, crown sparkling atop her curls, the bright blue of her sash making her skin seem all the more alabaster. Her gown exaggerated her length, splaying down to the floor at her hips like wisps of cloud.

He could never deny her beauty. To him, she was the more exquisite creature he had ever beheld. Their earlier fight at the horse field had left feelings of agony, regret, wounded pride, jealousy swirled inside him, clouding his vision until all he could see before him was a Monarch, a regal, a ruler of iron and steel, cold as the winter snow.

“Can you?”

She turned to leave and his legs were carrying him before his mind had even made up his next move.

He slammed the door shut before her, pressing his hand hard against the wood, ceasing his wife’s escapes. She stood there before him, her shoulders hunched, her back to him, fingers white as she still gripped the door handle.

He sighed, long and low and nearly smiled when he saw her shiver as his breath blew against her ear. He felt the tension coil and loosen inside him, felt his chest warm as his eyes travelled over her alabaster skin, up to her silky curls he so loved the feel of. He raised a hand to her waist ad pulled her gently back to him. She went willingly, her little form pressing into his heat, her grip on the door handle releasing. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into the crook of her neck, holding her tight.

She let him hold her, he did not know how long.

He pressed a kiss to her skin, felt her breathe a sigh and her shoulders released some of their tension.

“You're my heart,” he whispered, so quiet so only she would hear. He did not speak his affections often, it was not something that came naturally to him, but here and now, with tears in her eyes and a mind to run from him he needed her to know.

The months of being apart, of being close yet so far took their toll, he had missed her in his arms, missed her smell, her soft voice, the way her blue eyes looked up at him when he stood this close to her.

She turned in his arms and he swore he could count every eyelash.

“All I have ever wanted is you, Lilibet. I am driven mad with it; how much I need you.”

He wiped away a stray tear that slipped from her eyes and felt her tremble.

“I’m sorry.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her sound, kissed her the way he had been yearning to for months, kissed her like she was the last breath of air in his lungs. She sighed softly against his mouth and it only fuelled him, pulling her body against his, his hands wandering across her waist, feeling her curves. He tasted her mouth and desire surged in him, the same desire he always felt for her but forgot he had. He forgot how good she felt against him, how wonderfully she tasted, how her sighs felt breathed in to his mouth.

She pulled away gently after a time, kissing him once, twice then smiling softly up at him. Her fingers traced across the fabric of his jacket and he pressed his forehead to hers. He wished they could just say damn them all, damn the dinner, damn the meetings, damn the monarchy, just let them be mere husband and wife for one night.

She touched his cheek gently and met his gaze, there was promise in her blue depths, she had the same thoughts as he. The dinner would only last an hour or two, then they could return then he could have her in his bed, his wife, his Queen.

He was her most loyal subject, he would worship her forever.


End file.
